


Going Rogue

by Vital_Signs



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DC Comics, Gotham - Fandom
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Bad Psychiatry, Making My Own Canon, TW; Violence, about 6 parts, drugs (medication), i am dyslexic so there is going to be some mistakes, is bad at its job, may be an ongoing story, submitting to arkham gallery, this is a mini series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-26 20:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20936339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vital_Signs/pseuds/Vital_Signs
Summary: This is a fic series, that looks at the ecosystem of Arkham asylum, How the rogues interactions with one another and how therapy is or is not administered. The partnerships, the connections, the feud’s and the all the madness that rest inside the padded walls.





	1. Chapter 1

Going Rogue:

part 1: In Lock-Up With You.

The gates at Arkham always screech but not the squeaks you would usually find on an old rusted gate. The sounds that came from Arkham always have an element of dread, the gates here howled with more than scraping metal. Sounds so loud and so haunting like the screams of all who came before could not leave as their souls got stuck to the gate and are now forced to try and shake their way out. Arkham much like its gates is full of sounds that can’t leave, behind the bars hides monsters and underneath those monsters hide the shattered shells of men and women, or at least that’s what they say.

‘So, how are you feeling today Victor?’

The man or rather what is left of this man, rubs his thumb on the back of his left hand, the sound of scrapping ice accompanying the movement. The young doctor in front of him churning in her seat in both impatience and an effort to warm herself.

‘Feeling?’

His voice vibrated like a whispering echo bouncing off metal walls.

‘My feelings were frozen, along with my Nora.’

‘Yes, Nora, how is she?’

‘I do not know, no one will tell me, they just keep her away, behind glass, beyond my reach.’

‘I’m sure they are working hard to cure her.’

‘Oh, yes, they will try, and they will fail, as they have failed time and time again, but nothing any of them do, will ever be as much as I am willing to do to help my Nora. So, until they realise that, Nora and I will remain frozen together.’

The doctor shakes her pen across the page in front of her, the speed of which she wrote was a symptom of the cold icy room and her wish to move the session along as to not stay longer then she absolutely had to. 

‘I see, we need to do more work on that, ok, how have you been in your cell, are you comfortable?’

‘I will not die in the night if that is what you mean, but your notion of comfort is something I have all but given up on.’

‘Now Dr Freeze that is a very defeated mind set, there is no need for hopelessness.’

The man looked at the doctor his eyes glassy and cold, his blue face veiled in white granite, his stare full of icy indifference.

‘It must be very simple to say that, when you are the one who is able to leave this place, able to feel the autumn breeze, able to feel the light of the sun on your cheek and the warm embrace of the one you love. Oh, no, Doctor it is not hopelessness I feel, or rather anything I feel that troubles me, It is what I no longer feel, what I no longer have, what I no longer can hold in arms, warmth that is forever out of my reach, that, Doctor, is what troubles me.’

The doctor shifts in her seat and looks at her notes and then to her watch. She then looks the man in his frosted eyes.

‘I think that’s as far as you and I are going to get today, I have to go see my other patient, now.’ 

She rushed through her words as she gathered her papers, uneasiness filled her but the tension did not faze the man before her as if it froze before it could reach him. He sat there, starring, waiting, as she left him there.

‘The young are so impatient, just as we once were, Nora.’ 

The doctor went into the hallway where the guards were standing shoulder to shoulder either side of the door, she then took off the large parka letting out a shiver as she did and placed it back on the hook that was next to the guards.

‘Chilly isn’t it?’

She said to the guard as she brushed some ice off the now hanging coat. 

‘The room or the thing in it?’

He answered with a soft chuckle, she ignored his comment.

‘He just has such an icy shell, I feel I need a lot more time with him, but I have my other patient to see.’

‘Right, you got the laughy one next, good luck with that maniac.’

Before she could answer there was a loud commotion making its way up the hall.

‘Unbelievable, unacceptable, It was a lucky guess nothing more, you hear me, Batman, you have not out smarted me, you have only postponed your defeat at my hands, you hear me, you hear me.’

There he was, a big black shadow making its way silently down the hall, he was not an unfamiliar presence but always a commanding one. Darkness pulled into him swallowing light creating a thick blank void that surrounded him. He glided down the hall with a struggling man cladded in green.

‘Ngyma’s back,’

One of the guards sighed,

‘Yep, just can’t help himself,’

The other replied.

‘Ha, yeah, I mean the guy holds the record for breaking out of this place, he never gets caught and we don’t know how he keeps doing it. If he would just lay low and get out of the city, he would be sitting pretty on an island somewhere laughing it up, but no, got to poke the bat, ever damn time, It’s just getting sad.’

‘Crazy is as crazy dose huh, so who won the pool?’

‘I think Dan, he had two weeks,’

‘How much was it this time?’

‘About six hundred and two shift changes,’

The other man gave a long approving whistled in response.

‘Not bad.’

The Doctor thumbed her notes as The Bat dragged the other man down the hall, The Bat made everybody nervous, like you had to be on your best behaviour even if you were afraid of him, especially if you were afraid of him. The Bat would come and go, to drag somebody in or to drag something out of somebody. He got dear dreary Arkham to bend to his will, something she did not often do, but Arkham was always kind to those who knew how to speak to her, and The Bat always whispers just the right things.

As The Bat moved past the two men and the doctor, Edward Nygma still struggled in his grip, He had caught the prince of puzzles in the midst of a bank robbery or was it a museum heist or was it a city wide scavenger hunt, the truth is it does not matter as the point is never the physical goal but rather the thrill of the game. A game that Edward Nygma always wins, except when it comes to The Bat for The Bat never plays by the rules. Down the hall they stumble as they reach deeper into the asylum and the rooms became increasingly familiar, Edward started to slowdown and loosen with each step he knew that Arkham’s loving embrace was about to take him once again, so he did not fight it.

‘Oh, to be back home again, mind you Batman, having Arkham for a home is much like having a muse for a mother, you become weak at her magistery and awe at their beauty, but there is no warmth, no real love found here, just somewhere familiar to whittle away your mind, while you wait for the feeling of Jamais vu to creep in and take you.’

The Bat still dragged him silently through the halls, he had loosened his grip, nowhere near enough for a chance to escape him, but a bruise will not be left now that Edward has stopped fighting him.

‘Now don’t be like that Batman, you know how this goes by now, you drag me in, I stay for a while, I break out, you and me play a few games, you cheat I end up back in here, and round and round we go.’

‘I will find out how you keep escaping, Nygma,’

‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll try, but that my dear Batman is one of my many riddles you cannot solve. Speaking of which, how about another, I make two people out of one. What am I?’

‘A Mirror.’

‘Oh, I think Harvey might disagree with you on that one,’ 

Edward let out a smug laugh,

‘Oh, Batman, it’s too easy with you sometimes.’

As they reached the elevator that lead to the cells the guard standing there stepped forward,

‘I’ll take him from here Batman,’

Edward laughed,

‘Oh, why, is it because you want be to escape your arms this time, as opposed to just slipping away from your so-called watchful eye, hmm, Bolton.’ 

‘You’re not getting to me today Ngyma,’

Edward gave a sly grin.

‘Oh, no, would not dream of it, but you have it backwards, you can’t get me, that’s why you got pushed to elevator duty,’

‘You will not be leaving here again Nygma, you hear me, not happening, not one more god damn time. I can promise you that Batman.’

Bolton’s face turned to hard stone and The Bat said nothing as he passed Edward over to him.

‘Well, this is where we part ways Batman, its been fun, until next time, c'est la vie.’

The dark figure moved back down the hall as Bolton pulled Edward into the elevator. 

‘Hey, Bolton, Hey, Bolton, Hey, Bolton, Hey,’

‘What, Now, Ngyma,’

‘I have no feet, no hands, no wings, but I climb to the sky. What am I?’

‘Not, playing, your games.’

‘Come on its an easy one, even you could get it.’

Silence.

‘No? well, I’ll just tell you, shall I, its Smoke, similar to the kind coming out of your ass, when you told Batman you can stop me getting out of here.’

Bolton then hit a button on the elevator making it come to a complete halt.

‘I don’t think I made myself clear,’

Bolton then grabbed Edward by the collar of his shirt.

‘You are not getting out of here again.’

‘What are you doing? Stop.’

Bolton then punched the other man in the face, Edward’s head hit the wall of the elevator as he slid to the ground. Bolton then wind back his leg and begin to kick the man on the ground, harder and faster with each one. Edward yelled out but no one could hear him and even if they did there was no guarantee anyone would come. Bolton’s foot began to stomp all over Edward body, Edward was not a stranger to a beating by his father, by his classmates and The Bat, but this was different. This time was the first time that Edward was not sure if he was going to walk away. As he knew his father was too much of a coward to murder him, that his the classmates where all just children looking for an easy target and The Bat had his one rule, and if he were ever to break it, he would not waste it on him. But Bolton had a point to make and Edward was not sure how far he was willing to go to prove it, as Edward is also very familiar with the great length’s men are willing go to prove themselves. Bolton then grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him hard against the wall, so they were face to bloody face.

‘You aren’t leaving here again Nygma, but since you have trouble understanding that let me spell it out. If you think you can just walk out of here, I’ll break your legs. If you think you can crawl out of here, I’ll break your arms. If you think you can talk your way out of here, I’ll smash your skull. Do you get it now, you’re not leaving, as of right now you’re on lock-up, you and all your freaky friends. You’ve all have had run of this place for too long, but not anymore, not anymore.’

Bolton then let go of Edward’s collar and restarted the elevator, Bolton then Grabbed Edward’s arm and held him upright. As the elevator opened again Bolton then guided Edward into the hall where a man was sitting at a desk.

‘Oh, Nygma’s back, guess I won the pool, huh.’

‘Yeah you sure did Dan,’

‘Batman really did a number on him today, hey Bolt’

Dan then looked Edward up and down with mild concern.

‘Actually, he might have overdone it this time, well, for Nygma anyway, he doesn’t look to good.’

‘I’ll throw him in his cell, you can send up a doctor later.’

Bolton then pulled Edward along. Edward was in a daze, fresh blood running down his face. His thoughts were not straight enough for him to voice them, he could only go along to whatever his new fate may be. Bolton dragged him along the cells. The cell block in Arkham was a maze and that’s not a colourful metaphor, after one of the many escapes and explosions it took all of Gotham’s wisdom that this new cell block in Arkham was to be designed as a maze so that anyone trying to get out would have one hell of a time trying to getting away. How effective that was remained to be seen but the doctors certainly had a hard time finding their patients. 

As Edward carried his heavy footsteps and his heavy thoughts, Arkham began to sing to him with its chorus of bellowing screams and high pitch cry’s, along with the percussion of the bashing and clawing limbs desperately hitting and scraping at the walls. The symphony of the insane, the melody of monsters or the affirmation of animals whichever way you look at it Arkham held them near and dear. 

Bolton made it to the right cell, he then uncuffed the man he was holding and then held him by the scruff of his neck before throwing him into the cell. Edward landed face first on the ground, he laid there unmoving, hands by the side of his face, blood pooling at his top lip. Bolton stared down at him and mocked.

‘You’ll be fine, for now. As long you stay in lock-up.’

He then made his way down the hall whistling cheerfully as he did and smiled at his good work. For Arkham is a madhouse filled with monsters but not all the monsters here are in the cells. 

to be continued


	2. Overturned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey has a visitor and So does Oswald, Jervis and Edward

Going Rogue:

part 2: Overturned

All the rooms in Arkham Asylum were cold but by far the coldest was the visiting rooms. Provided you allow a lapse in memory for the man who can’t survive outside of subzero temperature, but even his cold frosted heart and body could agree that the chill that fills these rooms are unlike another. The tears from family, crying over the people they love locked way. The unrest of the patients still in their straight-jackets, unaware who is in front of them and don’t even dare to try and find out who is left inside of themselves. Then there is the rocking of patients and their visitors on their chairs waiting for the time to run out, so the ones who are of sound mind could get as far as humanly possible from this nightmarish domicile long forgotten by time and good taste.

This visitor’s room much like every other room here had rotting walls and dripping pipes. The room smelled acidic mixed with dust and decay, the concrete floors were cracked and bars on the windows were covered in a thick layer of rust leaving them looking like parasitic clay. The tables were metal and drilled into the ground with a loop to put handcuffs in if need be.

At one of these tables, a man tapped his fingers on the metal. The rhythm was One, Two, One, Two, One, Two. The man’s hand was burnt and blistered like the skin had been replaced with hot fire coals that are starting to flack away into ash. His other hand was sandy white, though it is was rough and callus mostly at the fingertips, this hand was holding a slim pale one, his thumb gently rubbed the knuckles of other hand, like he was holding a bird that had fallen from its nest.

‘Are you any better today Harvey?’

Her voice was timid but well-rehearsed, she had done this many times and was simply on autopilot. 

‘I feel ok, Grace.’

His voice was hoarse like smoke was trapped in his throat and every sound was fighting with another to escape its own echo chamber.

‘The doctor tells me you’ve made a lot of progress.’

‘They would say that.’

A silence sits between them as the voices of others surround them, covering their ears with a layer of the melancholic ambience. 

‘Harvey, can you talk to me please.’

‘What do you want to talk about Grace, what can we talk about? what can we say that has not already been said a dozen times now, this place doesn’t change…. and I’m not changing either.’

‘Don’t talk like that Harvey, you can get better,’

Her voice began to crack,

‘it can’t be like before, I know that… but that’s ok, your still here… and so am I.’

He slid his hand out of hers making it parallel to his other crimson hand as it still tapped softly to the beat of One, Two, One, Two.

‘That the problem… your still here.’

‘Harvey.’

His tapping stopped as he slapped his hand down.

‘No Grace, you need to face the truth.’

‘Which is, what? you’ve become everything you fought against your whole adult life, that your one of the worst men in this city, that you’re a sick and cruel man that can’t be stopped, that you’ve become some kind of… monster.’

Her eye’s started to well, but she kept herself together as she had learned to do in the time she had been coming here. Talking to Harvey was not easy as Grace was not sure which Harvey she was talking to at any given moment. She has learned to simply not let him drive the conversation, as he may not be a lawyer anymore but the lawyer in him will run circles around anyone who will let him. His eyes and voice crept down low in what was a last stitched effort to hide his confession.

‘I’m afraid it’s much simpler than that.’

He pulled both his hands together so that his fingers were intertwined.

‘I’m twice the man you knew and half the man you thought, Grace.’

Grace sat there, her face still, a tear slid down the left side of her face. Harvey moved his right hand to her face and wiped the tear away, she moved her face into the white rough hand.

‘Harvey,’

Her voice was weak as it trailed off. Harvey put his fingers back together. He paused.

‘Grace, don’t come back here.’

Harvey waved the guard to came over to the table, they took Grace by the arm and led her away from the table she said nothing but look on her face was of pain, sadness, guilt and a flicker of relief. Grace has come back many times after conversations like this but this, was different. There was no angry screams or tearful goodbyes, there was no saying he was not good enough for her and that she should leave him behind, he was right it was simpler than that. It was the first time that Grace and even Harvey realising that he had accepted what he had become or at least that he was more then he once was. Harvey put his head down as Grace was taken away, as he whispered to himself.

‘Goodbye Grace, I love you, and part of me always will…’

Harvey then moved his left hand into his pocket, he pulled out a coin, the coin was burned and ashed on one side and the other showed a clean sliver face. He held the coin and twirled it around in his palm, moving both sides back and forth.

‘Only wish I knew which part.’

A few more minutes pass and a guard came by and takes Harvey by the arm and takes him back into one of the winding hallways. Harvey with the coin still in his hand but now it was squeezed inside his red palm. Harvey was dragged along the halls and as the day dragged on, as they all intended to do here in Arkham, but every cloud has its sliver-lining and in Arkham that sliver-lining happens to be the common room. Now this is not due to the company that was mediocre most days and damn right terrifying at the best of times, but the common room could always give you what you needed, if you know what to ask for.

This common room had a large barred windows that let in sunlight, but there was nothing serine about this image, as the bars made the trail of light that came from the window look less like that the sun was coming in and made it look more like the darkness was leaking out. Revealing just how repugnant this place truly is and how not even the grace of god as small as it was and as hard as it is to find in this place could not salvage the abhorrent dwellings of those unfortunate enough to be trapped in its walls.

But let it not be said that all the comforts of humanity had left this place. In fact, one man made it his sworn duty to make sure that did not happen, at a reasonable fee of course. Oswald Cobblepot sat in the corner in a leaned couch with a small record player as soft melody sang out of it, he was writing in a book and held it close to his chest, he was surrounded by little stacks of books at his feet and by his sides all of them within his sight.

As Harvey entered the room and made his way to a table and pulled a chair from its place and dragged it across the room, shaking the man that was sitting in it to the floor.

‘Objection,’

Whelped the man as spun around on the floor to face Harvey, readjusting his top hat that had become ajar.

‘Overruled,’

Harvey replied as he continued to drag the chair away. Harvey moved the chair to one of the windows and sat right in front of it as to look out to world he was no longer apart of, saliently. The man that was on the floor stood up and brushed himself off, he then made his way over to Harvey to contest his actions. As he walked over to the window about to say his piece.

‘No, Jervis, I don’t think Harvey is quite up for a wistful discussion on chair etiquette with you today,’

Oswald warned.

‘This is none of your business Oswald.’

Oswald snapped his book shut, pen still in his hand. 

‘You will find it is, Jervis, I have as you know, a certain, interest, in keeping peace in this particular space as it were. And I will not allow for the rowdy actions of you two you to jeopardise such a mutually beneficial enterprise.’

Jervis walked over to Oswald so that he was standing in front of the couch like a court-men to the king or more accurately in Jervis case a child asking questioning his father. 

‘But, he, he, pushed me.’

‘Yes, I know Jervis, but if you can let this go for the sake of some well-earned peace, then I shall make it worth your wild,’

Oswald then moved is attention to a small stack of books that were next to him and pulled one from its place showing Jervis the cover,

Through the Looking-Glass

‘As you also know Jervis, I have an extended library and it would be a devastating shame if it were to be confiscated. Don’t you agree?’

Jervis stepped forward.

‘Yes, quite.’

‘Quite.’

Jervis then reached his hand out to grab the book, but Oswald pulled it away.

‘So, what do you say.’

‘Thank you, Oswald, I think I can let the chair mishap go, thank you.’

Oswald then handed him the book,

‘Now don’t lose it and do try to pace yourself as I cannot get another just yet.’

Jervis nodded and took the book to the other side of the couch where another chair sat, he held the book but did not open it. The sound of the door opening sent eyes straight to it. Edward was being led in by Lyle Bolton, Edward shook him off and walked into the room and went to the back of the room and sat an arm chair and took out a pad of rice paper and a pencil and started to sketch. Jervis looked over to Edward and started to giggle. Oswald lowered his pen and book once again.

‘Edward, good to see you, and how unfortunate that your here.’

‘hmm,’

Edward kept his head down and his hand moving. Jervis giggles got louder.

‘I see you bested batman, hmm, ha ha,’

Without looking up Edward replied.

‘Yes, yes, alright, Batman fingered it out, and here I am again.’

‘What was it this time, a heist, a robbery or was it a hunt,’

‘Oh, run after your rabbit, Jervis.’

‘Now, now, no need to get snippy Eddie.’

Edward pulled his book down and look Jervis right in the face with is black and bloodshot eyes.

‘What have I said about using that certain familiarity with me Jervis.’

Jervis giggles stopped, Edward does not use angry tones, frustrated sure, annoyed absolutely, but angry is not something Edward likes to get the best of him as he prises a clam mind above most if not all things. Jervis became timid and wary.

‘Sorry, Edward, as you were.’

‘As you were.’

Edward’s eyes remained locked on Jervis for a few seconds more. Oswald leaned forward to get a better look at Edward’s face. 

‘Good, god, my dear boy, what has The Bat done this time, your face is absolutely torn asunder, did he hit you in the face with a chainsaw.’

Edward turns his gaze to Oswald, as he gave him a coy smile through blackened gums.

‘Oh, this, think nothing of it, just a miscalculation on my part. Unforeseen variable as it were.’

Oswald looked unconvinced but did not press the man further.

‘Very well, would you like book, to ease the pain,’

Edward let out a soft chuckle.

‘What do you want for it?’

Oswald let out a sneer smile.

‘Well, let’s see, these books are full of knowledge, insights and other things of great value in this place so, how about we trade insights.’

Edward took a moment and gave a smile that make his broken body shake. 

‘I’m not telling you how I get out of here Oswald.’

‘I did not expect you to, though I dared to hope, very well Edward, how about you trade me a few of your knitted socks you have stockpiled.’

‘Deal.’

Oswald then handed Edward a book that Edward then put under his leg. A calm silence came between then as they both returned to writing in their books. Bolton started to walk around the edge of the room making his way to the three men sitting together.

‘What is going on here?’

Bolton asked like a schoolteacher who found teenagers smoking in the bathroom.

‘Mind our own business, like you should be doing, Bolton’

Oswald said as he held his book and pen tight, Jervis smirked, and Edward held his head low. 

‘Now, Penguin, that is no way to speak to the one who is in charge around here.’

Oswald was still for a moment before letting out a little laugh. Edward looked up concerned.

‘Careful Oswald,’

Bolton went behind the armchair and placed his hands on Edwards shoulders digging them in hard. Edward made a noticeable wince.

‘Yeah, Os, you should listen to Eddie, be careful, things are going to start changing around here, and I don’t know how well you’re going to keep up.’

Oswald glanced at Edward for a moment and Edward averted his eyes to the floor, his face clearly trying to hide the pain he was in. Oswald looked back at Bolton and moved his chin up.

‘Very well, Mr Bolton,’

Jervis looked at the scene in front of him in fear and uncertainty of what he was meant to do, so he ended up just moving his eyes back and forth. Bolton looked around the three of them before giving Edward one final hard squeeze making him hold in a yelp, then he let him go.

‘You three better be on your best behaviour, I hear Dr Crane has been causing a lot of trouble lately, and I think I’ll check in on him, just to see if I can help, um, straighten the straw-man out.’

Bolton then made his way out of the room leaving the three men in wake of what happened.

‘What just happened.’

Jervis asked.

‘It seems, my dear boys, change is once again in the air.’

Oswald queried.

‘The more you take, the more I become.’

Edward declared. Silence.

‘A hole, Gentlemen, we have found ourselves in a hole. Let’s us just hope it does not turn into our grave’s.’

‘At present Edward, I believe only Jonathan has to worry about that.’

to be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also on my tumblr, And in going to be submitted into the 'Arkham Gallery zine'  
so check them out,


	3. The Crow’s Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr Crane gets a few visitors

Going Rogue:

part 3: The Crow’s Nest

There is a saying in Arkham. first floor for the mad, seconded floor for the crazy and the third floor for the insane. Now obviously, this is semantics, but the inclination is rather important here. The mortals with the ailment of men are kept on the ground floor as to give the illusion to any haply soul that enters that this could pass as a simple house of nightmares. The seconded floor is the maze of madness, the corridors to the crazy, that gives the doctors more than enough reason to question whatever deity or deities they may believe in. The third floor however is where all hope of humanity leaves you, not just for the patients but for anyone who comes across it.

The third floor was filled with the more ‘experimental’ therapy’s or ancient practices depending on who you ask, the politicians who are the same people who still classify Arkham as a ‘mental health facility’ will tell you that this is all a part of new cutting edge techniques and therapy’s that help the poor inhabitants of Akrham. If you ask the first and second floor patients, its where monsters go to lose their fangs and claws, so that they can be tamed by lesser men. The doctors at Akrham would like to pretend that this is a last resort, that its only used on the hopeless cases and that they are beyond any other kind of help, but mostly each doctor in their quiet moments, still and clam when the screams fall silent and the eyes of men and women haunt their closed eye lids, they have one creeping, sinking thought,

This is madness.

But thoughts like that must be pushed down lest you let them take you. But that’s not to say all doctors at Arkham feel that way, but then again not all the doctors in Arkham are in-front of the glass are they. Dr Jonathon Crane was once a honoured and respected doctor, or that’s what people say now anyway, about Dr Crane’s earlier years in medicine and teaching, truth is if you had asked these same people back then what they thought of him they would all give to roughly the same answer. ‘He’s a quiet but an odd man,’ ‘there’s something not quite right about him.’ ‘little obsessive isn’t he.’ ‘Who?’

Not that any of their opinions are remotely of consequence, not back then and defiantly not now. Jonathon has been sent to the third floor for treatment on and off for years now, he never talks about what happens there, no one ever dose but Jonathon shows a particulate disdain when it comes to talking about anything that involves himself. Besides, Jonathon was not like the other patients on the third floor, unlike all the others in his unfortunate position, that position being that one is at any given moment an airs breath way from being a grotesqueness shell of human facilities, the difference is,

Jonathon enjoyed it.

The third floor had the thickest cells in all of Arkham. Unlike the second floor this layout was not a maze, it is much more straight forward but what it lacked it terrainle confusion it made up for it in being a hallway of horrors hellscape. The people sent here are jacketed and chained to their wall, and that’s how stay until a doctor tells them otherwise. Spending their days desperately trying not to piss themselves as they wait for their scheduled bathroom times, mind you at this point most of the occupants that make it to the third circle of this Halloween themed death-hole are more than willing to defecate themselves like zoo animals then most folks. The staff spends the bathroom times simply cleaning the zoo cages. 

In one of these cells, thick and padded. Jonathan sat on his bed, the walls were ripped exposing the wool that had become yellow with decay. The window was no bigger than a sheet of paper, the bars on them were thin and had rusted to the point that they had holes making it look like it had a termite infestation. Jonathon was not in a straight-jacket anymore but his right leg was still chained to the back wall. He sat on his bed or buck or canvas lined poles, Jonathon found the bed comforting, he often slept in his scarecrow mask and this bed made him feel like he was wrapped in it.

He was not in the best of places when he was brought in this time, not that he ever was in his right mind when he was brought in here, but this was different. This time the bat didn’t drag him in, this time he came willingly. October was not a good month for him with all the temptation about, the autumn air so sweet in his nose but bitter on his brain. Every crunch of the leaves and the air that sent a chill down his spine and vibrated through his very soul, all of it was getting to much, he felt himself slipping or rather he felt the scarecrow creeping up the back of his mind and skulking behind his eyelids. He then went to arkham of his own accord as to not find himself wrapped in burlap for at least one Halloween night. Jonathon was at this point in his treatment allowed some writing implements, this made his focus clearer and allowed him to make his notes. 

Medical log 29: Dr. Jonathon Crane.

Time, 1700 hours.

Date, October 29th,

Year, …who the fuck cares anymore.

The screams coming from the north wall started at about 1130 hours and ceased at approximately 1450 hours.

As to what ‘therapy’ was being administered in that time is up of speculation, however I have it on good authority   
and judging on the volume and intensity of the screams for such a period, they are most likely being caused by   
electroshock mixed with a high Diazepam concentrate.

As to the effectiveness of this treatment remains to be seen, the north wall has been having these sessions by my  
approximation for about 19 days now, with about 5 patients, four male and one female.

four of the screams are unfamiliar to me, but the fifths I am all too familiar with, well not screams so much, as this   
creature does not know fear at least not in a traditional sense. 

and I would know that ass-clowns giggles anywhere.

Most likely this treatment was done on him by the direction of his new doctor. They never learn, that his mind   
cannot be reasoned with, and most certainly cannot be saved. But youth is often unpractised in the ways of  
disappointment. They will continue the trials for the next two days ending it on three weeks. As to what will come  
from this, I will monitor for any overall behaviour changes in the third floor, but have not other means of conducting  
further analysed at this present time.

As for my own treatment, I am becoming more loseit by the day, I expect to be returned to the second floor by  
the weeks end. My doctor has been most helpful, in making the transition this time around, I will be having   
a session with them in a tomorrow morning. They do have some skill unlike most of the so called doctors  
in this hellhouse,

however their naivety is most troubling.

What will become of them in a place like this remains to be seem, I will monitor they decline for future reference. 

Log 29, End.

Jonathon then moved to the window. The tiny thing would have been at the top of most people’s heads, but Jonathon was a tall man. His body towered over most peoples, his body was lean and skinny, like his skin was a thin cloth that covered his skeleton to keep himself together. His hands where rough and callus from all those years of swing a large heavy scythe, his face sunken with dark bags under his eyes. His glasses were slightly cracked on the left side frame, on his right temple down to his neck was a thin but jagged scar as if someone slide the knife down his face before trying to slit his throat.

Jonathon was able to pier out the window and see outside into the grounds of Arkham. Not much out there at the moment as you could imagine, mostly just over grow weeds and underbrush. But the courtyard was filled with birds or rather crows. They would squawk and cry for all to hear, it was the only thing in Arkham that was more constant then the screams. One of the crows landed on the windows ledge and squawked in Jonathon’s face. Jonathon stared at it for a moment before it squawked at him again, he then let a smile slowly creep onto his face.

‘Alright, alright, easy now, I get the picture.’

His voice was low just about a whisper, is southern accent rumbled as he tried to use a hushing tone.

‘How was your day today little birdy.’ 

The crow pecked at the concrete as Jon reached into his pocket. He then pulled out his hand and held it to the window, sprinkling out crumbs of food on the ledge. The crow pecked at the food and Jon moved his fingers to slowly stroke the birds feathers.

‘You had a hard day huh, me too, but its not so bad, is it little birdy, you got big sky’s and lots of places to go, but here you are, sitten with little old me, not that I don’t like when you come to visit, just seems like you’d have better places to be is all. You came he to have rest before going off to do what you need do, I get that, why you stick around me I’m not so sure though. But to each there own I suppose.’

The bird bobbed its head and Jonathon continued to pet it.

‘You such a pretty bird aren’t you, and smart bird, you got anything for me?’

The bird flapped its wings and flew off, a few moments pasted and the bird returned holding something shinny in its beck.

‘Well, what’s this now?’

Jonathon took the object out of the birds beck and examined it, it was a thin metal rod it looks like it broke off an old lighting fixture,

‘A little rusted by I can file it down some. Thank you little birdy.’

Jonathon petted the bird again as it happily cried. A noise came from the hallway, footsteps came closer to his door. 

‘You should be on you way now, Little birdy.’

Jonathon then shooed the bird away it bounced on the ledge a few times before flapping its wings and flying away. Jonathon then weaved the metal rod inside one of the holes in one of the padded walls, he moves the fabric to hide the shape of the rod sticking through the wall with the padding. Jonathon then moved slowly as to not rattle his chain, he sat back on his bed and made it look like he was still taking notes.

The footsteps made it to his door and the big heavy door began to unlock and with one strong push it came open.

‘Evening.’

The voice called from the door frame.

‘I must admit I was not expecting you.’

Jonathon said as they then shut the door behind them.

‘And why’s that?’

Jonathon looked behind the one in front of him eyes darting back and forth.

‘Here all by yourself aren’t you? no guards, no back up. You might get into some trouble for that.’

‘Doubt it,’

They answered smugly.

‘Fair point, so what brings you here?’

‘What else, you.’

‘You came all the way up here to see little old me, all by yourself huh, not to bright.’

‘Well you are chained to the wall so I would like to see what you could do.’

They let out a soft quiet laugh. Jonathon then shuffled jostling his leg.

‘I’m only chained to the wall at your recommendation, Doctor Quinzell,’

The young women could not hide her smile at that one. She tried not to see her patients after hours but Jonathon was one of the few she could make lenience for on that front.

‘Now Jonathon that’s for your safely as well as mine.’

‘That’s Bullshit, and you know it.’

She moved over to a chair that was on the opposite of the bed.

‘No need for that language, Jonathon.’

‘No need for a god damn chain on my leg neither.’

Doctor Quinzell then pulled out a note pad from her bag.

‘Now, How have you been Jonathon.’

He looked at her for a moment and put his own note pad to his side and looked her in the eye again.

‘Fine.’

Doctor Quinzell tapped her pen to her pad.

‘Well, you’ve been fine, the last 28 times we’ve meet up, most be an in house record.’

‘Don’t sass me child.’

‘Jonathon, if you want to leave the third floor your going to have to work with me here.’

Jonathon let out a sigh.

‘Fine…I’m feeling things again, so that’s something.’

‘What things?’

‘Sensations…my face…the air…. beating of my heart, the screams on the walls.’

‘That good, better then last time, how dose that make you feel.’

‘Cold mostly.’

‘Right, anything else.’

‘I have been sleeping better,’

‘Good, why do you think that is?’

‘The birds maybe?’

‘Ok, is there anything else you want to talk about.’

‘Like what.’

‘Like the incident that got you moved up here from the seconded floor, about three weeks ago.’

‘I’m not sorry and you can tell Jervis that I said so.’

‘So you remember what happened now.’

‘Kind of, I remember the screams and Bolton flying across the room but not much else.’

‘Well better then nothing, is there anything else you want to talk about.’

‘Not really, how about you?’

Doctor Qiunzell moved in her chair. Jonathon tapped his glasses.

‘You seem to be looking and forgive my me, rather brunt out as it were.’

Doctor Qiunzell bit her lip for a split second.

‘Now Jonathon, let us keep this about you,’

Jonathon put his hands together and leaned forward.

‘Very well, do you remember, back in the day when I was still teaching and you sat in the back row taking notes like a bat out of hell, you wrote down just about every word I said no matter how unimportant it was.’

‘Yes, ok, um why do you mention that,’

‘You see when you and I first started having are sessions, It seemed to me you kept that habit, but as of the last oh, year or so you seemed to have lost that habit. In fact you have not written a single thing down since you came in here.’

‘Things change and its just was not necessary anymore,’

‘Necessary, interesting that you use that word Doctor Quinzell, wouldn’t you say.’

‘I think, its more about understanding what information I do and don’t need.’

‘But you said necessary, a need is done out of purpose outside of our own judgement, when we feel something is or is not necessary it speaks more of our own personal biases, the fact you no longer see it to be necessary suggest you have had a shift in your priorities.’

‘And what might that be Professor Crane.’

‘Well, what do think, what have you been up to lately.’

‘Well, I have been working on more patients lately. And I think I’m losing track of then,’ 

Doctor Crane then took the note pad from his side and opened it.

‘such as,’

‘I had Victor Freeze the other day and I just could not listen to anything he had to say, he talks about his wife his, feelings and all I could do is look at my watch the whole time.’

Doctor Crane took down a note.

‘I see, why do you think that is.’

‘I had my other patient to get to,’

‘Which one.’

‘Joker.’

Doctor Crane took another note and underlined it.

‘I see do you have this problem with him?’

‘No, if anything I go over time. That’s why I missed my session with Nygma, yesterday.’

‘Edwards back, huh, good to know, Is there a reason why you are spending so much time with Joker as opposed to you other patients, Harley.’

Harley Stated to play with her hair taking it down from a bun,

‘He’s just so open with me you know.’

Doctor Crane tapped his glasses and took another note.

‘Open, open how?’

Harley played with her hair more patting it down and straightening it out the best she could but to no avail.

‘Oh I can’t tell you that, can’t break the rules’

Doctor Crane took down another note underlining it twice.

‘Hmm,very well, so you do have him on a new treatment though, don’t you Harley.’

Harley looked surprised.

‘How do you know that.’

‘I may not always be in the best of mind, but my ears work perfectly. I can hear the laugh through the walls’

‘Oh, I see that makes senses. silly me, oops ’

‘That’s ok, I there any improvement in any of them so far.’

‘No not really Professor Crane, and honestly I don’t think we should continue…but.’

‘But what? Harley.’

She took a deep breath and leaned back with a wishful sigh.

‘He has such a beautiful laugh and its the only thing that makes him smile right now.’

Doctor Crane kept quietly taking notes.

‘I see, well Harley…’

Footsteps where making there way down the hall.

‘I think it be best if you were on you way now,’

Harley straighten like she had just been sobered up.

‘Yes, your right Professor Crane.’

She then started to tie her hair up again. The footsteps came closer and Harley had grabbed all her things and made her way to the door, she waited a moment as she heard the footsteps walk past the door. She then pulled the door open and she opened it wide enough for herself to push herself out, as she went into the hallway she was meet with a man, she yelped.

‘Oh, Mr Bolton, you scared me.’

‘Sorry about that Doc, what are you doing up here this late?’

‘Just catching up with my patients, goodnight Mr Bolton.’

Harley tried to fix her hair as she went down the hall, rushing to the elevator. Bolton then waited for her to be out of sight before opening the heavy door again. Jonathon was still sitting on his bed making notes and Bolton slammed the door shut behind him.

‘I am very popular today aren’t I.’

Jonathon said without lifting his head.

‘What did you do to that Doctor Crane.’

Jonathon snapped his book shut and looked to Bolton eyes over his glasses.

‘I assure you it is strictly professional.’

‘Is that right. Well then I assure you from professional to another, This is going to hurt.’ 

‘What are you going on about Bolton.’

Bolton looked at the chain that connected Jonathon to the wall.

‘No where to run Crane,’

‘No where to hide neither Bolton.’

Bolton moved closer to him slowly as he prepared his fists.

‘Let’s see if I can get the scarecrow to be afraid,’

‘How much time you got.’

‘All night.’

Jonathon looked at Bolton unfazed by his actions knowing what is to come.The Crows outside squawked as they flew in circles outside, one of which landed on the window.

‘I guess I can pencil you in.’

‘I’m going to make sure you never get the chance to throw me around again, your staying in lockup.’

‘Haroo,Hraa.’

The crows cried the courtyard was empty, the screams where loud but tonight the crows where louder

**Author's Note:**

> This is also going to be on tumblr but i have no idea which one of my blogs yet.  
I am also submitting this to the 'Arkham Gallery' for anyone who wants to look them up themselves


End file.
